


Unmentionable

by lindsey_grissom



Series: Unmentionable ‘Verse [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 19:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13910706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindsey_grissom/pseuds/lindsey_grissom
Summary: Mrs Hughes has a certain ‘device’ to return to Anna.





	Unmentionable

Mrs Hughes asks to see her before she leaves for the cottage. She sends John off with a smile and the little bundle of Lady Mary’s clothes that need mending. She hopes he doesn’t get held up along the way; he might insist on helping her out, but he won’t like having to explain the armful of ladies clothes.

  
Mrs Hughes is already in her sitting room when Anna goes to find her, a tray on the table with two Crystal glasses and the sherry she saw Mr Carson decanting a few days ago.

  
“Mrs Hughes?”

  
The Housekeeper jumps, spins around to face her. “Oh Anna! Come in, come in.”

  
She seems flustered, something Anna hasn’t seen from her since the morning Mr Carson made the announcement and Mrs Hughes had sat red faced beside him while he spoke of their engagement.

  
She shuts the door behind her; Mrs Hughes doesn’t often ask for her company in the evenings, even less so now that John is back and the police have gone away, so she suspects this is something important. Likely something she doesn’t want others to overhear if it couldn’t be said during the day when they kept crossing paths.

  
“Have a seat.” Mrs Hughes waves a hand at the chairs and reaches for a glass. “A drop of sherry?”

  
Something in the turn-up of her lip, makes Anna wonder if the sherry was not the Housekeeper’s idea. She knows, from conversations when she first came to Downton and would visit Mrs Hughes for company during the worst of her homesickness, that she prefers a good whisky if it’s available; Scotch of course.

  
She nods a yes and takes a seat while Mrs Hughes pours.

  
Waiting, she looks around the room. It hasn’t changed much in all her years at Downton. Mrs Hughes was already Housekeeper when she arrived as a maid and she’s always found her to be quite frugal with her money; not miserly, but careful. It’s not a surprise that very little in the room is different. A few new books, there’s a new chair in the corner she recognises, that must have been brought down from the attics. The picture frame is still the same, with the same pictures in it as always; she wonders if perhaps that might change soon with the wedding.

  
The flowers by the desk are fresh; Mrs Hughes has always had wildflowers, a new bunch collected by the Gardner’s boy each week. Now, once a month Anna has noticed that the vase is filled with lillies and lavender, sometimes a single white rose; certainly not taken from the gardens and beautifully arranged. She thinks it’s so sweet and although John laughs at her for it, she knows he’s just as happy for the Butler and Housekeeper as she is.

  
Mrs Hughes hands her a glass and settles into the other seat, the table between them with nothing but a single box on it.

  
Mrs Hughes takes a sip before speaking. “I’m sorry to keep you tonight Anna, but I’ve been meaning to speak to you and there’s never been a good time.”

  
“Is everything alright, Mrs Hughes? Is her Ladyship unhappy with something I’ve done?” She can’t think what, but Mrs Hughes has already finished half her glass and perhaps it’s a sort of false courage she’s trying to build, to tell Anna something she knows she won’t like.

  
“Pardon? Oh no, no, sorry Anna. No your work is exemplary, as always.” Mrs Hughes reaches out slowly and taps at the sleeve of Anna’s dress. “No this is, this is something else. A…personal matter I suppose.”

  
Oh. She takes a sip of her own drink. “Is something wrong with Mr Carson?” She hasn’t noticed if there is, he’s seemed quite cheerful since Christmas, but then perhaps his smile has been hiding something.

  
“Mr Carson? Why on earth would you think that?”

  
Not Mr Carson then. “Sorry Mrs Hughes, you said it was personal, so I—”

  
She stops when Mrs Hughes raises a hand, her cheeks pinking. “I see. No, no mister, uh, Mr Carson is just fine, thank you.” The other woman pauses, drains her glass and places it on the table beside the box. “No, this, ah, this is personal to you, Anna.”

  
Resting her own glass on the table, Anna tangles her fingers together in her lap, leans forward slightly. “I’m sorry, Mrs Hughes, I don’t follow.”

  
Mrs Hughes’s lips twist. “No, I’d dare say you don’t.” She seems to take a moment to think before resting her hand on the box and clearing her throat.

  
“You know of course that after Mr Bates left, Mr Molesley asked permission to search your cottage?” Anna nods, of course she does. She’ll never know how to repay Mr Molesley and Miss Baxter for what they did. “He hoped to find some indication of Mr Bates’s destination. Eventually, he found the pictures, and of course His Lordship knew how to contact Mr Bates in the end.” Anna finds it surprisingly easy to not get distracted by memories; she has never heard Mrs Hughes ramble, hadn’t thought the woman capable of it, and yet that is exactly what she’s witnessing. It is fascinating to see. “However, his search took longer than you may think and there were certain places he didn’t feel comfortable looking in, at least not before I had assured him there was nothing there you would be ashamed for him to see.”

  
Anna can feel her cheeks blushing now and she takes a sip of her drink. She has a horrible suspicion she knows what this is about. She’d noticed a particular item missing from the cottage; she thought Lady Mary had collected it.

  
“He brought me a box, he said that he had found it in one of the dressers, that he hadn’t looked at it as soon as he realised it was yours and not Mr Bates’s.” The Housekeeper pushes the box across to her. “I removed… _that_ and gave the original box back to him; goodness knows what he was hoping to find, but I didn’t think you would want…well, I kept it here. I should have returned it as soon as you were released, but there didn’t seem to be a good time to bring it up, and then Mr Bates returned and there was Miss Thompson’s confession.”

  
Mrs Hughes stops, swallows and seems almost to need to catch her breath. Anna picks the box up and opens the lid, shuts it as soon as she sees the familiar case inside.

  
“Mrs Hughes I’m—”

  
Mrs Hughes holds up her hand again. “Anna, I don’t require an explanation, it was taken from your home and you’ve nothing to defend there.”

  
This is quite possibly the most uncomfortable talk she has had with Mrs Hughes, and that includes the one where she was told by the Housekeeper that should she and the other maids ever break the rules and do more than step-out with a footman, they’d best be sure the timing was right to avoid any greater consequences than a ruined virtue.

  
“Mrs Hughes—” she tries again, but Mrs Hughes stands, heads back to the sherry and refills her glass. “No please, I’d prefer that we simply forget I’ve ever seen it.” She swirls the alcohol around her glass, unable to meet Anna’s eyes. “Now, I’m sure Mr Bates is missing you, and I wouldn’t like to keep you any later. Andy’s waiting to walk you home.”

  
She isn’t sure she could have broken Lady May’s confidence anyway. “Mrs Hughes, that really isn’t necessary.” She stands herself and tucks the box into her pocket, glad for their deepness in this dress.

  
Mrs Hughes looks at her properly then, her smile soft even if her cheeks are still redder than usual. “Andy is waiting for you.” She repeats and Anna knows better than to argue with Mrs Hughes a second time.

  
“Goodnight, Mrs Hughes. And thank you.”

  
“Goodnight, Anna.”

  
She passes Mr Carson on her way to the servant’s hall, smiles at the way his concerned expression eases when she nods at him. She has no doubt that he knows nothing about what she and Mrs Hughes have discussed, but he must have known something was weighing on his fiancee’s mind. She’s even more sure now that it was Mr Carson that suggested the sherry.

  
“Goodnight, Mr Carson.”

  
“Good evening, Mrs Bates.”

  
He walks on and she looks back to see him knock once before entering Mrs Hughes’s sitting room.

  
The box in her pocket catches her leg as she walks. John is going to laugh so hard when she tells him about this.

 

**End.**


End file.
